


Maybe It's Maybelline

by wattpads_songbird



Series: Badass Cinnamon Roll Angel Cake (2015) [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Bunker Shenanigans, Canon verse, Cas' hair appreciation, Castiel in the Bunker, Emmanuel Castiel, Human Castiel, Men of Letters Bunker, Throughout the seasons Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:58:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4298646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wattpads_songbird/pseuds/wattpads_songbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Castiel’s hair has a personality of its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe It's Maybelline

**Author's Note:**

> A Tumblr movement to appreciate everyone's favorite "badass cinnamon roll angel cake".
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July 8 | Cas Appreciation Week | Favorite Physical Feature | Hair 

Castiel was a capable of a lot of things. He was a whole galaxy crammed into one small human for Christ’s sake. He could set things aflame with a well placed glare if he wished. Even so, there _was_ one thing Castiel couldn’t seem to do, and that was tame the dark locks that curled at the nape of his neck and constantly stuck up in any direction it pleased.

Most of the time the boys joked that it had a personality of its own. 

It was at times windblown, touched by the air of twelve different countries in a second.

It was at a time covered in raining sparks from the lights of a barn. Is that not how humans normally introduce themselves? 

It was at times matted, the dark locks clinging together with demon blood and dirt. As a human, he scrubbed away the muck with shampoo that smelled of citrus. As an angel, he willed the muck away, having his hair cleaned in the blink of an eye.

It was at a time drenched in sweat as Castiel felt his stolen grace wither away along with his longing heart.

In another time, it was cloaked in the scent of marijuana. Eh, it’s the end of the world. 

It was at a time wet, drenched in the waters of a river that Emmanuel didn’t remember ever jumping into.

It was at times singed, little pieces shorter than they once were because of the flames of Hell.

It was at a time longer, paired with peach fuzz that was apparently nice. There really wasn’t time for haircuts in purgatory. 

It was at times tousled, misplaced by his own fingers as he ran them through it during a long night of research for a hunt he was determined to do correctly.

It was at a time sticky. One doesn’t collect honey without getting at least some of it on themselves.

It was at times semi-clean, washed with the water from a sink of the Gas-N-Sip. Hygiene was something humans needed when they worked an important job such as his.

It was at a time on Chuck’s floor, remains of a battle Castiel would never have won, but would still, no matter what, have fought.

It was at a time dyed with his own blood, placed there by the hands of his dearest friend. No...placed there by the Mark Of Cain.

It was now bedhead every morning, or so Castiel was told by the brothers. They rated it every morning with teasing smiles as Cas grumpily poured his coffee. “What do you think, Dean? I’m giving it a seven.” “Hmm, you know what, Sammy? I’m saying seven and a half.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://magnificat-cas.tumblr.com/)
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> [Tag](https://www.tumblr.com/search/casappreciationweek)


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